


A Little Something Unreasonable

by elektra121



Category: Pippi Långstrump | Pippi Longstocking (TV 1969)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, Misses Clause Challenge, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektra121/pseuds/elektra121
Summary: Christmas is just around the corner and Pippi still couldn't be convinced to come to the children's home. Will there be any real Christmas joy for Ms. Prysselius if a poor little soul has to be all alone on Holy Eve?
Relationships: Prussiluskan (Pippi 1969)/Teacher
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katekane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katekane/gifts).



> "I want her to stay at the children's home at least for the holidays. If not, I don't think I really will be happy at Christmas myself." (Ms. Prysselius, the Day before Christmas Eve)
> 
> "I am very sad, Mr. Nilsson - and do you know why? Because there are so many gifts hanging in the tree. And no one comes to get them." (Pippi, at Christmas Eve)

Mrs. Settergren‘s call came late at night on a Sunday in autumn. It was the day of Mrs. Svensson’s long-planned visit to her family at the countryside. It was also the day of Mr. Johansen’s involuntary stay at the hospital courtesy of his fractured foot. And it was the day before the scheduled annual inspection by the Royal Society, for which the children’s home would have to appear at its best in order to ensure the Society’s continued financial support. It was around nine o’clock, the older children were still not in bed, the windows not cleaned yet, and too much paperwork waiting to be done – and the situation had just become a little too much for Ms. Prysselius, when the phone rang.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time.” Mrs. Settergren was polite as usual.

“Oh, not at all. Absolutely not. How may I help you?” There was not a hint of impatience in Ms. Prysselius‘ voice. She sounded at least as sweet and polite as Mrs. Settergren.

“Well, actually, I do not really know what to make of it, and whether it is… well, appropriate to bother you. But Tommy and Annika told me that… in the vacant Captain’s villa, you know – the one at the end of the street, a few hundred yards from our house if you walk down the birch tree alley…”

A loud rumble caused by something tipping over upstairs almost drowned out Mrs. Settergren’s voice. Then annoyed shouting. Ms. Prysselius tried to shield the telephone with her hand.

“Yes?”

“Well, they say a girl moved in there. A little girl, their age.”

“How nice! The children must be very happy about it, I’m sure.”

Ms. Prysselius still managed to hide her impatience well. But what in the world was this call about?!

“No, I’m saying a little girl moved in there, all by herself.”

“What do you mean, all by herself? Her parents left her there and won’t be back for a couple of days?”

“No, from what I understand, she is… alone. All alone. There are no parents, apparently. Or if there are, they do not care.” Mrs. Settergren hesitated a moment, then lowered her voice: “If I may be honest with you, she seems a bit strange. She’s telling odd tales, the children say. She claims her father was a king of the South Seas, and such things. Well, you know my Annika. And Tommy, too. They don’t just make up stories like this. And even if only some parts are true, it is reason enough to worry, I think.”

With this, Ms. Prysellius agreed. A young child in a vacant, abandoned house, all alone! Mentally disturbed perhaps, or reacting in desperation to a traumatizing situation. Why on earth had it taken Mrs. Settergren so long to make this call?!

“Thank you very much for calling! I’m very sorry I can’t go there right now of all times. What do you think, will she be able to get by another night, all on her own? I really would not want to send the police to pick her up at night.” Scaring that poor girl even more? That would be precisely the wrong thing to do to a traumatized child.

“Well, actually, I don’t think it is this urgent. Annika and Tommy said she was getting by quite well.” Mrs. Settergren didn’t seem to be worried all that much. “She has enough food, apparently. I just wanted to call in – maybe you want to look into the matter, when you have the time.”

“Oh, I will, for sure! First thing tomorrow. Thank you very much. And give my best to your children.”

“Gladly. Good night.” 

Ms. Prysselius put down the phone, cursing Mrs. Settergren’s inappropriate peace of mind about the matter. A small child, all on her own, in a house that has been uninhabited for years, getting by “quite well” – for crying out loud! No wonder she was making up fairy tales to comfort herself. A poor little soul searching for protection… There was nothing “odd” about it in any way. But goshdarnit, why did Mrs. Settergren have to bring it up right now…?!

Eventually, Ms. Prysselius took a deep breath, admonishing herself for cursing. After all, there was nothing anyone could do tonight. Well, aside from rearranging the furniture, reconciling a children’s fight, handling all that paperwork, and cleaning the windows. She sighed and headed upstairs. It would be a looong night.


	2. Chapter 2

“It didn't really go according to plan then.” The teacher laughed.

“I wouldn’t say so, no. But I'm still making sure this young girl will come to the children's home!” Ms. Prysselius seemed very determined.

“That sounds like a threat.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Sorry, it’s just... At least for now, she is getting along, right? From what you've told me, it sounds like she'd be asking for help if the need arose. And she seems to have quite a sense of humor.” The teacher was still smiling, unable to hide her amusement about Ms. Prysselius’ report.

“But don't you understand? She is all alone, without protection. Didn't you listen? She ran to and fro all the time, climbing over furniture like a cornered animal! She struggles to distinguish her fictional stories from reality. She believes money is something to play with! And she has that exotic monkey – the lord knows what kind of diseases it might transmit. She puts it in a jacket, like a doll! And she does not wear anything remotely decent herself! Dear god, she even has that horse in the kitchen, so as not to be alone!”

Ms. Prysselius looked very serious – and very combative. The teacher eyed her with a strange, not easily decipherable gaze.

“I'm sorry. I know you only want what is best for her. But, you see, some people are very happy alone. Not everyone is as sociable as you are, dear.”

“Nonsense. Nobody likes to be alone. And certainly not a little girl.” Ms. Prysselius' cheeks flushed with agitation.

“Then I assume that at least you do not find it uncomfortable, say, to be in my company?” The teacher tried to steer the conversation back to a calmer course.

“Of course not.” Ms. Prysselius vigorously shook her head.

“Then let's not argue. I understand that you are worried. Really, I do. But I don't think there is any urgent reason for that at the moment. No need to rush things. Sometimes, things simply take time.” The teacher rose from her seat. “Like our dough. I think it's slowly getting to the point.” She took the kitchen towel from the bowl, peeked inside and nodded. “You could read to me while I'm making the cinnamon rolls. The book is over there.”

And indeed, reading soothed Ms. Prysselius and gave her other thoughts, just as the teacher had hoped. The baking also went well. Even though there were only the two of them, the teacher had set the table nicely, put flowers in a vase and taken the good china out of the cupboard. Quite a festive setup, actually, for a cozy Saturday afternoon visit.

And when the lousy weather destroyed their original plan to go for a walk, the two stayed inside, played a game of cards, talked about everything and nothing, prepared dinner, and then listened to a crime drama on the radio, both curled up on the sofa and figuring out the culprit long before the detectives did.

Finally, at an advanced hour, Ms. Prysselius gathered her belongings. “I really have to go now. It is already past ten!”

“Don't you want to stay? You can sleep here. I’ll put some sheets on the couch. It’s really no inconvenience.”

Ms. Prysselius intently avoided eye contact. “You know I can't.”

“Why not? Isn’t Mrs. Svensson on duty?”

“Yes, but...” She hesitated. “What if there is something wrong with her?”

“Then Mr. Svensson surely can step in for once.”

“Please, do understand me. I just can't. What shall Mrs. Svensson think? They’ll make a big deal of it, in my case.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause during which neither looked at the other. Finally, the teacher gave in.

“I do understand you. You are right, of course.”

But somewhere deep inside, they both knew she didn't truly agree.


	3. Chapter 3

Late autumn had arrived, with wet weather, darkness and cold. And the young girl was still living all by herself, together with a monkey and a horse, in the old Captain's villa, which the children now called _Villa Villekulla_ – a name quite apt when considering the daily routine of its hostess, or rather the lack thereof. On her various visits, Ms. Prysselius had met the girl either counting coins, or swinging on the lamp, or doing some kind of housework in a very Pippi-like way, or sleeping in the middle of the day with her head under the covers. The latter had scared her the most – how easily a child could suffocate! In general, an irregular sleep pattern was a huge red flag for Ms. Prysselius.

Oddly enough, practically no one in the city seemed to share her concern. Most people who knew about Pippi simply shrugged: “Well, that's the way she is.” Ms. Prysselius couldn't understand that at all.

“At least she ought to go to school! She could learn a lot from the other children there,” Ms. Prysselius complained to the teacher as they both stood in front of a room full of half-filled boxes late one evening, taking stock of the Christmas gifts for the residents of the children’s home. One of the boxes had Pippi’s name on it.

“Two new sets of long underwear, two short sets, a new shirt or blouse for everyone,” Ms. Prysselius read out. The teacher handed her the clothes, and Ms. Prysselius carefully folded them into the boxes. Then she checked off those things on the little paper lists pinned to the boxes.

“She will come, you’ll see. She knows that all of the other children are going to school. And when she is ready, she will come by herself, I’m sure of it. She is a lovely girl and will definitely be very popular in the class – the children only tell good things about her.”

Ms. Prysselius finished one of the boxes and considered it for a moment.

“Did you listen carefully to the children? Have you noticed that she always hands out gifts to everybody?”

“Well, so what?” The teacher continued filling the boxes.

“She gives them really expensive things. To everybody. All the time. Annika got a ring with a true gemstone, I’ve seen it myself! Where did Pippi get that stuff from?”

“Oh come on, are you implying she’s a thief? Listen, I know that children sometimes snitch things when what they really crave is attention – but don't you think Pippi is getting enough of that without having to resort to stealing? If her father really is or was the Captain who owns that house, he must have brought many strange items from his travels, and now they’re probably hidden all over those cupboards and chests.” The teacher put a blouse in one of the boxes and checked off the list. Ms. Prysselius remained undeterred.

“Yes, but _why_ is she giving them away? And such expensive things? A gift for everyone who comes over? I think she wants to buy friends. Because she doesn't understand how to make real friends. It's not a good sign at all.”

“Or maybe she just likes to make other people happy,” the teacher suggested, nudging Ms. Prysselius with her index finger. “I know someone who likes to do that, too.”

“Don't be silly – that's completely different! I do it because I have a responsibility.”

“Well, in that case warm underwear would do. But I see a lot of things” – she snatched the list from Ms. Prysselius and scanned the items – “that were definitely not on the list before you started working here: a book for everyone, new crayons, paint boxes, skipping ropes, roller skates, card games...”

“Nonsense. You know best how important reading is.” Ms. Prysselius reclaimed the list. “And they need the crayons and ink boxes for school. With jump ropes and roller skates they get exercise and keep themselves healthy.”

“Okay, fair enough. But the games...? You can hardly argue that card games–“

“Practice mathematical skills,” Ms. Prysselius offered quickly. “All gifts on the list are reasonable through and through!”

The teacher’s mouth twitched with amusement. “Well, you won. But...”

“Yes?” Ms. Prysselius frowned.

“I think one thing is still missing.”

“And what would that be?”

“Something unreasonable.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think everybody should receive a little something unreasonable for Christmas.”

Ms. Prysselius looked at her as if she had gone mad.

“Like war toys? Absolutely no way! I know a few boys asked for them in their letters, but as long as I have something to say in this home, no child will ever get something like this for Christmas! Not for any occasion. No matter what they asked you to tell me! The answer is no.”

“I know, I know. What I meant was...,” the teacher thought about it for a moment. “That's hard to explain. But I believe that everybody should get something they just _want_ for Christmas. Not because it’s reasonable. Just _because_. Maybe something sweet. Or something silly. Or beautiful. Just because they want to have it. And it doesn’t have to be anything big. Something small might do. But it should be something they really want.”

Ms. Prysselius thought about it for a moment. “But one also has to learn that some wishes simply won’t come true.”

“Well, but what if they were really easy to fulfill?”

There was a pause. Ms. Prysselius took off her glasses and wiped the crack of her nose with her index finger. “Are we still talking about the gifts for the children here?”

“Yes, of course.”

It didn’t take long for the teacher to regret not having added “but maybe other things as well”.


	4. Chapter 4

It was only a few days until Christmas, and this was made abundantly clear wherever one went – by the window displays in the shops, by the posters announcing Christmas concerts and Advent teas, by all the decorations inside and outside of every home, and of course by the sales of Christmas trees.

At the children’s home, Ms. Prysselius helped fold Christmas hearts, accompanied Christmas songs at the piano, rehearsed texts for the play at school, praised freshly-baked cookies that tasted like dust, listened to Christmas poems in various stages of being learned by heart, and observed the activities to decorate the rooms.

But as far as Pippi was concerned, she had not yet taken one step forward and felt she was running out of time. To think that a little girl would have to spend Christmas Eve completely deserted and alone! Admittedly, Pippi had turned out to be blessed with an extraordinarily robust nature, and she actually gave the impression that she could do reasonably well on her own in everyday life (even though her everyday life differed quite a bit from everybody else’s). But over Christmas? She had to have some company for Christmas! It kept badgering Ms. Prysselius to no end.

When she bumped into Pippi at the Christmas market the day before Christmas Eve, she made one last rather desperate attempt to convince Pippi to stay at the children’s home for the holidays. Of course, nothing worked: neither any of her good words nor the subliminal attempts at emotional blackmail – which was certainly justified in this case, wasn’t it? – nor the attempted intervention by the police. Pippi had politely refused, laughed at it, and ran away from the officers.

While Ms. Prysselius was still pondering what she could have done differently, the teacher suddenly appeared behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. Ms. Prysselius spun around.

“Oh! It’s you. What a pleasant surprise!” Her mood instantly improved.

“I would hope so. And what are you doing? Still buying things for tomorrow?”

“Yes, indeed. I’ve already found all the reasonable items, so now I'm looking for something unreasonable.”

The teacher laughed.

“And I tried to take Pippi to the children’s home... but she ran away from the policemen.”

The teacher’s face darkened. “You had her chased by the police?”

“No, no, it sounds terrible when you phrase it like this.”

“Because it is!” The teacher pulled her closer by the sleeve. “Listen, I know this is really important to you. But you’re going too far! Why, for heaven's sake, can't you simply accept that Pippi wants to be by herself for Christmas? She knows she can come to you any time. And the Settergrens would also be happy if she stopped by, I’m sure. But if she doesn't want to, if she truly wants to stay alone, then that's the way it is. You can't force her to do what _you_ want, just because you like it better that way!”

“But I refuse to believe this is what she wants. I would never want to be alone for Christmas.”

The teacher gave her a stern look. “Are you listening to yourself? It’s always ‘I don’t want this’, ‘I don’t want that’, ‘I would never do this’ – it’s all about you, not about Pippi. Because Pippi is happy with the situation as it is. I believe it’s _you_ who just doesn’t want to be alone.”

Ms. Prysselius seemed shocked, as if the teacher had said something indecent.

“But why?” The teacher tried to console her. “Obviously, you don't have to fear being alone. You will be with the children and your co-workers. You always say how cozy Christmas Eve is at the home.”

“Well, yes, that's true.”

“Then what is it? Don’t you see? There is no reason to make a fuss about this. Stop worrying and let's go buy unreasonable things!” The teacher linked arms with Ms. Prysselius and gently dragged her along. Ms. Prysselius glanced over her shoulder, a little startled, to check if anyone had observed them, but then smiled to herself and let the teacher lead her away.

At another booth, they stopped and bought a huge amount of terribly sugary, colourful candy that would surely take out a few milk teeth, as well as several toys that could make a lot of noise, and a few tiny things with a disproportionately high price. Ms. Prysselius would certainly not have admitted it, but once they had started picking out items, she quickly found joy in shopping. Finally, they arrived at a booth that had scarves and shawls on display.

“Oh, the red one would look great on you!” Ms. Prysselius pointed to a shawl with twisted fringes.

“No, it’s way too expensive,” the teacher objected. “And besides, not everyone dares to wear such bright colours as you.” She let her eyes wander over Ms. Prysselius' stunningly purple coat.

“One thing I'll never understand,” admitted Ms. Prysselius, “is why one should wear dark clothes in the dark season? The children in the home certainly have seen their share of black clothes in their lives, so I will not dress in black as well. But just feel the quality! It is really very beautiful – and the colour suits you well.”

The teacher hesitantly stroked the shimmering cloth. It felt fine and smooth, but still pleasantly warm and soft.

“It's expensive, it's too bright in colour, and you don't dare to wear that. But you still want it, don’t you? In other words: It counts as something unreasonable,” Ms. Prysselius pointed out. “So buy it! Wasn’t it you who said everyone should get something unreasonable for Christmas?” She winked encouragingly at the teacher.

“And wasn’t it you who insisted that sometimes we have to accept that some wishes simply won’t come true?” The teacher had meant it as a joke, but they both remembered the circumstances of that previous conversation and somberly averted their eyes.

“You are right, of course,” Ms. Prysselius gave in. “Let's go. We already have enough unreasonable things.”


	5. Chapter 5

Finally it was Christmas Eve. Like every year, Ms. Prysselius made sure that the whole day was filled with as many activities as possible – she knew quite well that this was the most difficult time for those children who still had families but could not spend the holidays with them. Drying tears had become an undesired part of their Christmas traditions, but Ms. Prysselius managed every year to make it a pleasant day overall for every child.

After the play in the school was finished with much applause, lunch was eaten, the last gifts were wrapped and placed under the tree, a Christmas walk was taken, festive attire was put on, Christmas carols were sung and the practiced poems were recited – and then, finally, one could go on to receive and unpack the gifts.

In the middle of all the “Ooh” and “Aah” and “Show me!” and a joyful “thank you!” heard here and there over the sounds of rustling paper and unreasonably loud hoots, bird whistles, and rattles that Ms. Prysselius was already cursing, Mr. Johansen led a visitor into the home and carefully maneuvered her through the empty boxes scattered all over the floor.

It was the teacher, carrying a rather large box wrapped in colourful paper. “I got it!”

The children surrounded her. “Can I hold it?” – “What did it cost, honestly?” – “Can we go right now?”

“Wait, wait – what's going on here?” Ms. Prysselius hid her surprise and gave the children a modestly stern look. “Since when do we no longer greet guests with 'Good evening'?”

After the children had made good for their lapse, Ms. Prysselius herself paused in confusion. “Who is the huge package for?”

“For Pippi!” – “You know, because she's all alone in the Villa Villekulla tonight.” – “And we thought maybe nobody would give her anything, wouldn't that be sad?” – “And she always gives nice things to all children!” – “May we go and bring it to her, please?” – “We put all the money from our piggy banks together!” – “We'll be back very quickly, promised!”

Speechless, Ms. Prysselius could only nod weakly.

But Mr. Johansen wouldn't have it. “No one leaves this house tonight before they have danced around the Christmas tree!” He managed to look serious. “You two too, of course.”

And so it happened that everyone – the children, Mr. Johansen, Mrs. and Mr. Svensson, Ms. Prysselius and the teacher – dutifully had a dance around the Christmas tree before the children and the package went on their way to Villa Villekulla and Pippi.

After that, things calmed down eventually. The adults sat down on the sofa, and Mrs. Svensson fetched a large bowl of glögg.

“Oh, how silly of me. I forgot the raisins. Would you two get them, please?”

Ms. Prysselius had the vague feeling of being sent away, but that was fine with her because she wanted to speak to the teacher in private.

“Shouldn’t you be with your parents? Was there an argument?” she asked as soon as they were alone.

“No, no.” The teacher denied, but with a smile so wide it looked as if she was concealing a lie. “I said I got an invitation for tonight. They understood.”

“An invitation? To where?”

“Well, to here – I hope? Or does it bother you?” Concern suddenly filled the teacher’s voice. “I mean, I had to deliver the gift.”

“No, I don't mind at all.” And that certainly was the truth. “I'm just, well... surprised. Honestly, I think it's very nice that you’re here... because... actually, I...,” Ms. Prysselius fumbled for words, then changed the subject entirely. “I can give you your gift right now. Wait here.” She hurried to get it. Would the others in the room next door believe it took them so long to look for those raisins?

Minutes later, Ms. Prysselius was back in the kitchen and handed the teacher her wrapped gift.

“May I open it right away?”

“Of course.”

And so she did – and seconds later held the beautiful red shawl in her hands. The teacher bit her lip with joy as she put it on.

“That was really unreasonable of you. It's so expensive!” She pulled Ms. Prysselius into a warm embrace and didn't let go.

“I know.” Ms. Prysselius seemed flattered. “But I listened to you well: _Everyone_ should receive a little something unreasonable for Christmas, not just the children. That’s absolutely worth the money. By the way, it wasn't so unreasonable after all. I actually find it pretty reasonable to give warm winter clothes to people one likes.” She did not break away from their embrace. “By the way, what was in the package you brought?”

“A trumpet.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yes, exactly. A trumpet,” the teacher confirmed. “Apparently, you're not the only one worried about Pippi's Christmas. Annika Settergren finally figured out what Pippi wished for yesterday and the children decided to all pitch in. They told me this morning before the play. I just added the missing amount and bought it.”

Ms. Prysselius’ eyes widened. “But such an instrument is really very expensive. And the children certainly didn't have that much in their piggy banks, even if everyone gave something!”

“Yes, and on top of that, I don't think Pippi intends to take serious lessons,” added the teacher. “It's really unreasonable through and through.” She sounded quite proud.

“You are such a good person, you know that?” Ms. Prysselius leaned her forehead against the teacher’s.

“Not quite as good as you think. You know, actually it wasn't a gift for Pippi.”

“No?”

“It was for you. You said you couldn't really be happy on Christmas if Pippi wasn’t either. But I wanted you to be happy. So it's actually my gift for _you_.”

And then Ms. Prysselius couldn't help it and just had to kiss the teacher. And the teacher kissed her back.

When their lips finally parted, the teacher chuckled. “What will Mrs. Svensson think when she comes in wondering why we still haven't found those stupid raisins?”

Ms. Prysselius smiled. “We’d better go back in there before they worry where we might have gone.”

Perhaps Mr. Johansen and the Svenssons really had worried, because when the two women finally returned with the raisins, no one said a word. No one commented on why they had stayed in the kitchen for so long or why the teacher was now wearing that beautiful shawl. Mr. Johansen and Mr. Svensson exchanged a knowing look, then glanced at Mrs. Svensson, who pretended not to notice. Instead, she kept herself busy adding the raisins to the punch and then served the drinks to everyone.

Finally, she cleared her throat. “Are you staying for a little longer?” she asked the teacher when handing her a cup of punch.

The teacher took it and looked at Ms. Prysselius.

Mr. Johansen and Mr. Svensson suddenly were very focused on their glögg. Tension hung in the air.

And then Ms. Prysselius did something unreasonable. Something that could cause a lot of problems. Something that wasn’t polite to say without asking first. But she didn’t care and even managed to make it sound like the most obvious response.

“Oh yes, of course, she is staying tonight.”

And maybe it really wasn't so unreasonable after all, because all of a sudden, everyone was smiling and toasting and praising this rather reasonable idea.

THE END.

Many thanks to Fenway03 who, same procedure as every year, helped a great deal with the translation.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ein kleines bisschen unvernünftig](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379713) by [elektra121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektra121/pseuds/elektra121)




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